


When You Fall Down, Get Back Up

by HollyBlue2



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, BAMF!Dean, BAMF!Sam, Big Brother Dean, Blood, Brotherly Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Caring Dean, Hurt Sam Winchester, Injury, Severe Injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3673059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyBlue2/pseuds/HollyBlue2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam is severely injured in a hunt, Dean takes it upon himself to help him as much as possible<br/>*ON HIATUS*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before: Part I

_One year ago._

It was supposed to have been an easy hunt. A nest of vampires, and only seven of them at that. It was in a small cottage out in one of the rural areas of Ohio. Dean pulled the impala up to a secluded space far enough away from the nest so they wouldn’t hear her beautiful roar. Stepping out of the Impala into the cool evening air, they opened the boot and gathered their weapons; a machete for Dean, the colt and a sica, which they discovered in an ornate wooden box in the bunker, for Sam. Dean pulled his holdall out as well, as it contained many other useful items such as vials and syringes of dead-mans-blood, and slung it over his shoulder.

They began their trek towards the house, they stepped over roots and sharp brambles, small rocks and just about everything you could possibly find in a wood as they made their way under the woods’ canopy. It was dark here, darker than it was out in the open, at least in the open they had the moonlight to guide their way, here they just had the guide of not bumping into trees. Dean had suggested putting a torch on but Sam had shot down the idea, telling him that the light would be easily seen out here.

The small house eventually came into view and it seemed quiet. There were no lights on, nothing to show that anybody was living there. However, Sam and Dean had vital intel that the was indeed something living here. Sam pulled the colt out from where he’d placed it down the back of his trousers to be easily accessible and Dean unsheathed his machete, holding it out in front of him with an experience steadiness.

Crouching behind the low wooden fence the surrounded the area of the house, they made sure they were prepared before Dean motioned for Sam to enter though the back while he went through the front door. It was something they had practiced well in the past. They would go in guns and knives blazing and shoot or decapitate every vampire in sight. It wasn't ideal, but this clan had killed over forty civilians in the Ohio state.

Dean made his way stealthily to the front door, where he waited for a moment, waited for Sam to be in position. He took a deep breath before violently kicking the door down. Wood splintered everywhere but Dean ignored it and burst through the gap. He could hear commotion further into the house as well. Shouts and yells, they weren't from Sam though. They were voices he didn't recognise, so it must be a vampire.

Dean came upon his first victim in a lounge like area, he was large burly man, much larger than himself, maybe even bigger than Sam. Dean swiped his blade across in front of him, catching the vampire across his stomach. It wasn't good enough to kill him though, vampires needed their heads detached from their bodies to be killed. Either that or a bullet from the Colt in its brain. The vampire jumped back, drawing a blade from goodness know where and began to hastily come at full force towards Dean. Luckily, Dean was able to dodge most of the blasts, only gaining a small slash to his right shoulder. Dean passed his machete from his right hand to his left, it would be much stronger than his right especially since his right was now damaged. He could feel the blood soaking through his short sleeved t-shirt and it felt tense but he tried his best to ignore it.

“Come here, you damn son of a bitch!” He yelled at the guy, stepping forward and slashing the blade higher than the first couple of times he tried. He stepped forward with every single swipe, slowly backing the vampire into the side of the room. At this point, he quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe of dead-man’s-blood and plunged in into the side of the muscular man whom he’d pinned against the wall. He felt the vampire go lax and Dean pushed his machete in to the vampire’s neck, forcing it until it went through flesh, then bone and finally the dark haired vampire’s head rolled off and thumped to the ground.

That was it. He moved on, the headless body slumped to the ground as Dean moved away to go and find his brother. Sam was still on the ground floor fending off two vampires at the same time. Dean watched momentarily as Sam knocked the smaller one to the ground then kneeling on the downed vampire he pulled the colt from the back of his trousers and shot the other one square between the eyes. He took his eyes off him instantly and then shot the one he’s trapped under him in the head as well, at a point blank range.

“Sammy!” Dean called. Sam got up from the floor and looked over at Dean who was heading up the stairs, his gaze didn’t seem to be on Sam though. “Behind you!” He warned. Sam spun round quickly and fought the female vampire while Dean ran upstairs to find the remaining three vampires. At the top of the wooden stairs there was an open landing with a just above waist high barrier. Dean encountered the first of the three vampire here, another female. She was fast and rough. Fliting around and trying to get around Dean who was trying just as hard to keep her in the same place so he could back her up against one of the walls as he had done downstairs. So far, it was not going to plan. Sure, he knew that most of them were stronger and faster than the average human beings but this one, she was faster and stronger than any he’d seen before.

Dean suddenly found himself entangled within her grasp and Dean tried to reach into his jacket to grab more dean-man’s-blood. It wasn’t going to well until he found he’d got her backed up against the oak sideboard that was against the banister. The force of the action made the bannister creak with unease and Dean pushed harder against it. He just hoped he could get away from her and inject the dead-man’s-blood before it totally splintered and fell over the edge. He kept pushing and pushing, hearing the bannister creak and crack louder and louder. Dean final took hold of the syringe and, holding the female vamp tight in his grip, pulled the cap of with his teeth and stuck the needle into the side of her neck. Just in time too, for the bannister gave out one last snap and fell away. Dean threw the woman out of his arms and sliced off her head in one clean cut just as he saw Sam cross the hallway.

“Get out of the way!” He roared desperately. “Sam!” By the time Dean could even move, Sam had been knocked over by the falling sideboard and it trapped him underneath. Dean crashed down the stairs blinded by the image of his brother squashed beneath the cupboard. He forgot about the two remain vampires who were still in hiding upstairs, no doubt making a run for it now.

“Sammy? Sam?” Dean reached the bottom of the stairs and after constantly calling out his name with no response he was worried beyond anything. He knelt down beside his brother, it looked like it was only his leg that was trapped under the sideboard; Dean couldn’t tell if that was a bad or good thing. He hoped it was the latter. “Hey, buddy, wake up.” He said gently, shaking his shoulder. Sam didn’t move so Dean kept on shaking him and calling his name.

Eventually, after about five minutes, Sam’s eyes screwed up in pain and he regained consciousness. “Dean-” He said before he could say any more the pain from his leg seemed to rush at him at once. “AH!” He howled, he moved to reach over to his trapped leg but Dean stopped him.

“Sam, stop, it-” He didn’t know what to say. “It doesn’t look good, alright?” He pushed Sam’s shoulders back so he was lying down again. “Just keep breathing. You ain’t dying on me, little brother.” Dean stood up and moved over to see if he could shift the sideboard. He started by removing the dead body with the decapitated head. “Sammy, you still awake?” He checked. Sam grunted in reply.

“Yeah, still here Dean.” He poked his head up to look over to Dean. “Quit screwing around and get this lump of wood off me would ya.”

“I’m trying, Sam, cool it.”

“I would cool it except I don’t really wanna lose my leg.” He shot back at him. Dean gave him a pained look. That may have been too far. Dean dumped the body unceremoniously off to the side and went back to try and move the cupboards. He picked up one corner of the heavy oak sideboard and used all his strength in him. The wound on his right shoulder smarted at the overexertion and began to bleed again. “Dean, stop, your shoulder’s bleeding.”

“Sam, I gettin’ you outta this.” He told him sternly and began to lift again. This time the sideboard moved a couple of inches from the ground. Sam let out another yell and Dean shot his gaze over to him.

“Dean, stop, put it back. It hurts less with it on me. Please, put it back.” As much as it hurt Dean to concede to Sam’s request he lay the cupboards back down.

“Sam, come on, man. We can’t stay here. I’ve gotta get you out. It’s not like we can call an ambulance, not with all these dead vamps around.” Dean knelt back down, close to Sam. He wrapped his hands around his face, tried to get him to focus on him. “Come on, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch but it’ll be fine, Sam.” He cut off before he could say the words _I promise_ because he couldn’t do that. There was no way this was going to be fine. They had a half mile trek back to the Impala on top of everything. “I’m gonna try again. You gotta shuffle yourself out from underneath. Okay? Sam? You hearing me?”

“Yeah, Dean, I got it.” Sam closed his eyes tight, bracing himself for the pain ahead. Dean grabbed hold of the corner of the sideboard.

“Ready?” Dean wondered, Sam shook his head which was hardly surprising. “Going to count to three.” He saw Sam nod in confirmation. “1…” he didn’t bother to even get to two before lifting off the cupboard. It seemed easier this time. He watched as Sam shuffled himself back, eyes still tight shut and mouth trying to cover up the yelps of pain. Once Dean saw he was clear of the sideboard, he rested it back down and returned to Sam’s side. His leg looked horrific, the sideboard had all but crushed the bone halfway down Sam’s left lower leg. There was a lot of blood too, running down from the open wound, the edge of the sideboard must’ve been fairly sharp.

“I can’t feel my foot, Dean.” Sam whimpered.

“It’s gonna be fine.” He told him, more for his own sake than his brothers. He gathered up the things he’d brought with him and stuffed everything into the holdall which he slung onto his good shoulder. “Let’s get you up.” Dean decided and manhandled his brother who was half a head taller and weighed more than himself. He wrestled his arms underneath his arms and lifted him into more of a sitting position before throwing one of Sam’s long arms around his shoulder and lifting him up on to his good leg. Sam stood up as best he could, leaning heavily on his brother. He tried his best to lift his leg off the floor, but his hip kept giving way and his leg ended up dragging limply behind him as Dean began to walk them towards the front door as it was the closest way to get out of the house. In normal circumstances they would clean up their mess, salt and burn the bodies until there was very little evidence of what happened. Today was no normal circumstances but Dean could come back in a few days once Sam’s leg had been sorted and clean up. Dean manoeuvred them out of the destroyed front door and they slowly and painfully began to make their way back to the Impala. Trust Dean to park in the most awkward place at the best of time, but there was no way they could have seen this coming when they parked next to a dense wood with uneven and bramble filled floor.

The fifteen minutes it had taken them to get to the house took them over half an hour to get back. Sam had a hard time keeping his damaged leg away from the entangling brambles, which kept catching on his jeans and pulling at his broken leg. Dean gave up on not being able to see and pulled the torch out of the holdall he had taken with him, it wasn’t like they were trying not to be seen right now. Their goal was to get to the impala and get Sam to the nearest hospital. Opening the back door, Dean sat Sam on the edge of the bench seat that stretched the whole width of the car. He left Sam there while he went round the other side. He opened the door and clambered in and pulled Sam in so he was lying down.

“Dean, could you grab a blanket. I’m pretty cold.”

“Sure, just no sleeping until we get you to the hospital.” Dean shut the door by his head and went to the boot to grab the couple of blankets they stored there in case they never found a motel on their route or didn’t have enough money for one. He lay one over Sam then folded a second one to go under his head which Sam lifted so he could place it under. “You’re going in to shock, Sam.” Dean told him after noticing Sam shaking a little, the sheen of sweat covering his face and the fact he was cold. Dean rummaged through the boot to find something he could raise Sam’s legs on. Three books were the key. He folded another blanket on top of them as well for comfort and a little extra height. He lifted Sam left leg up – his good one – and placed it on the stack of books first. He debated about his other leg but decided against moving it and possible making it worse. “Okay Sam, remember what I said?” He asked him. Keep him talking, keep him awake, he was reminding himself.

“What? Yeah, no sleep until hospital. Whatever, Dean.” Sam’s words were slurred as if he were intoxicated.

“Sam, I’m being serious. Keep talking to me, Sam.” Dean glanced in his rear view mirror at the still form that was lying on the back seat.

“Hey, remember when you were like ten, and you jumped off that motel wall?” He said, it was almost incoherent, but after many years of seeing Sam drunk he’d learnt to be able to decipher his speech.

“Yeah, Sam I remember that.”

“You jumped off that wall, man,”

“Yeah, I know, it was stupid.”

“You thought – you-” Sam stopped abruptly. Dean looked to him in the back seat, saw his eyes drifting closed.

“Sam… Sammy, stay awake buddy. Remember? Tell me what happened on that motel wall eh?” He encouraged. Sam’s eyes flickered open again.

“’m just restin’ De’.” He started. “You, you fought you were ba’-man, dude.” Sam giggled a little. “You said I coul- be that ovver guy, Su’man. Bu- I wan’t alloed on wall cus, cus, Dean, my leg really ‘urts.” Sam wasn’t doing well whatsoever, Dean was trying to keep it cool, if Dean panics, Sam panics too and that’ll just end up worse.

“I know it hurts, Sam, I really do. It’s not much further now. We’re just driving through Canton now. It’s fifteen minutes tops. Think you can stay away for that long?”

“Mmm… ‘pose so.” He said slowly.

“You gonna tell me the rest of that story to right? I wanna hear what happens next Sam.”

“Wha? Oh, da’ sai’ I cou’t go on the wall ‘n case I fell off, ‘n you fell off and you ha’ the mo’el towel roun’ your neck like ba’mans cape and I had t’other towel like sup’man. Din’ you sprain your ankle. Da’ was so ‘ngry a’ you.” His speech was slow, almost forced, almost painful to listen to, but Dean listened, adding in _yeah_ s and _mmms_ every now and then to keep him going.

“Yeah, that hurt pretty bad, spraining my ankle. We’re four miles from the hospital now.” Dean told him seeing a signpost. He turned a corner and on to Hills and Dales Road NW, they were so close.

“De’, can I slee’ now?” Sam whimpered. It was obvious that Sam’s leg was causing him a huge amount of pain and Sam solution seemed to be, if he slept the pain will go.

“Two miles, Sammy. Hold on for me, a’right.” He instructed. An ambulance raced ahead of him. He pressed down on the accelerator and pushed the impala to go faster. He could hear her grumbling at the speed and the handling was becoming more awkward. Dean swerved desperately into the emergency bays where there was an ambulance there already with its flashing lights still going. He opened his door, not even turning off the engine and dashed to find the first person he could.

“Sir,” He heard from behind him. Dean swivelled round to see a paramedic in his greens walking towards him and pointing at his car. “You can’t park there, this is an ambulance only area.”

“No, you don’t understand, my brother-” the paramedic cut him off.

“This is an ambulance area only, if you – or your brother – need medical assistance I suggest you park in the car park and go through to the emergency room like everyone else.

“I – I, he can’t, his leg’s broken, he’s – he’s,” Dean took a deep breath, a pause, otherwise he was sure his emotions would get the better of him and he would either end up crying or punching the woman in front of him. “He need to see someone right now.”

Dean backed up to his car. Opening the door, the one nearest Sam’s head. “Heya, Sammy, how you doing?” He asked, ignoring the paramedic.

“We a’ the hos’tal?” He wonders.

“Yeah, man we are. Let’s get you out.” He coaxes. Dean takes Sam and pulls him out as best he can and hauls the larger man into his arms, carrying him with one arm under his knees and the other under his back and arms. The blanket that had been covering him in the car remained over him. Sam reached up to put a hand round his brother’s neck for more support.

“You gotta help him. Please.” He told the paramedic who upon seeing the condition Sam was in asked Dean to follow her into the emergency entrance. Once inside the doors, the paramedic directed him to a bed that Dean could put Sam on while she called for a doctor to help. Dean laid Sam down on the bed as gently as he could but Sam still let out a pained whimper when his leg rested on the bed. Dean adjusted the blanket over him as he was still shivering. “He was hit by a fallin’ sideboard and it trapped his leg and it, it’s just really, really bad okay!?” He told the doctor.

“Okay, alright, let’s have a look shall we?” The doctor seemed relaxed, more relaxed than Dean was. He doctor pulled back the blanket away from Sam’s legs and Dean noticed the subtle change in the doctor’s expression. “Take him in to the ER.” He told the two nearest orderlies that were in the vicinity. Dean started after them as they wheeled him away, but the doctor stepped in front of him. “You’re gonna have to stay here. You can’t be in there with us. As soon as we get him stable, you’ll be able to see him.”

“I can’t leave him.” Dean told him, voice strained from trying to keep his emotions at bay. “I can’t.” 


	2. Before: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam goes into surgery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Then:
> 
> “Okay, alright, let’s have a look shall we?” The doctor seemed relaxed, more relaxed than Dean was. He doctor pulled back the blanket away from Sam’s legs and Dean noticed the subtle change in the doctor’s expression. “Take him in to the ER.” He told the two nearest orderlies that were in the vicinity. Dean started after them as they wheeled him away, but the doctor stepped in front of him. “You’re gonna have to stay here. You can’t be in there with us. As soon as we get him stable, you’ll be able to see him.”
> 
> “I can’t leave him.” Dean told him, voice strained from trying to keep his emotions at bay. “I can’t.”

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait here.” He told him sternly. Dean didn’t meet the doctors eyes, barely listened to him as he stared over his shoulder, subconsciously going up on tip toes to see his brother in the room behind him.

“Sam…” He whispered quietly as the doctor turned away from him and left him standing there. There were windows into the emergency room and Dean paced towards them. There were several doctors and nurses surrounding Sam. One of them was holding his head, keeping him still and holding an oxygen mask, while another was removing his jeans using a pair of sharp scissors. Sam and Dean didn’t have much clothing as it was, Dean vowed to replace that pair of jeans which were Sam’s favourite. The other nurses busied themselves placing monitors on Sam. Three electrodes on his bare chest checking his heart rate, Dean looked to the screen and could see a green line going up and down, meaning he still had a beating heart, but that was all he understood. A blood pressure cuff was around his right arm and there was a drip in his left, feeding him fluids.

“Sir?” A gently voice from behind him and a light tap on his arm made him turn round and he saw a nurse standing just a bit shorter than himself. “I’m Nurse Andrews,” She introduced.

“Dean.” He replied curtly.

“That’s a pretty nasty cut on your shoulder, mind if I take a look at it?” Dean didn’t answer straight away and looked back over his shoulder to the room behind him. “You’re not gonna be able to do much for your brother stood out here. Come with me. He’ll be alright for a little bit.” She smiled and tossed her hair which was tied in a ponytail over her shoulder and motion for Dean to follow her. His shoulder, where the vampire had taken a swing at him, hadn’t really been bothering him, not until she’d mention it anyway. It must’ve been the adrenaline.

“Alright.” He followed her to where the cubicles were. She asked him to sit on the bed and she drew the light blue curtains around them for privacy. The nurse pulled over a silver tray with some bandages, saline and a stitch kit laid out.

“Shirt off, let’s have a good look.” She instructed and Dean pulled off his blue and white plaid shirt and pulled his short sleeve up further, clearly the nurse wanted both of his shirt off as she shook her head and motioned for him to remove the second t-shirt too. He pulled it off, stifling a gasp as his shoulder stung, and balled the bloodied shirt up and placed it next to him. “Alright then, I’m just going to rinse it out with this saline solution, it may sting a little.” She told him as she’d drawn up some saline into a plastic syringe and held Dean’s arm steady. She squirted the clear solution into the cut to wash out any dust, dirt or possible infection. Dean closed his eyes in effort to ignore most of the pain that was blooming in his shoulder, he could feel the bloodied saline trickle down his arm and every now and again the nurse would dab it up with some paper towel. Once she had done this, the nurse took a closer look at the wound. “I’d say you’ll be needing about twelve stitches in that.” Dean just grunted in a roundabout way of a reply and let her get on with it. “This,” She showed him a small syringe. “Is local anaesthetic, so you might feel a sharp pinch a couple of times but after that it’ll all go numb. Alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright.” He told her. He didn’t bother looking over at the syringe, knowing it would make his stomach feel queasy, he and Sam had done this many times over the years anyway, without anaesthetic at that. He felt the needle go in the first two times but after that most of his shoulder had gone numb and he relaxed a little.

“So, how did this happen?” She wondered, out of interest.

“Eh, oh, um.” Dean hadn’t actually thought that far at all. He had his brother’s cover story sorted and rolling but not his own. He couldn’t tell her that they’d been casually smiting vampires and one of them had tried to slice him up. That probably wouldn’t go down well and he’d probably have ended up in the psychological ward under observation. “There was something sharp sticking out of the sideboard that hit Sam, it splintered when it hit the floor, it must’ve happened when I tried to lift it.”

“Must’ve been pretty sharp then? You luckily got a clean cut right here.” She finished up the last two stitched, which turned out to be fifteen in the end. “There we go, all sorted.” She placed the padded bandage square over the wound and taped around the edges with some hospital grade sticky tape. “I’ll just go and get you a sling, it’ll keep you shoulder mostly immobilised while your shoulder heals.” Dean nodded and sat where he was.

“Thanks,” He mumbled and once she’d gone Dean jumped down from the bed and put his shirt back on. Pulling it over his head didn’t bother him too much because he shoulder was still numb, he was still careful however. He peeked out the curtain and when he was sure he couldn’t see his nurse he slipped out and went back over to the emergency room where Sam was.

He returned to where he had stood previously before the nurse had carted him away to stitch up his shoulder. Sam was still there, still unconscious, still with a broken leg. Though there seemed to be a large machine in the room with them now and everyone in the room, save for Sam, was wearing thick blue aprons. Dean realised it must be a portable x-ray machine and the aprons were protecting the occupants of the room from the radiation. The images were taken and the machine moved to the corner of the room, they were putting a large bag of ice on Sam’s leg when Dean deemed it safe to enter and opened the door, the doctors were too busy to notice him as they were pulling up the bars and moving the oxygen tank and heart monitor onto the bed beside his brother.

“Where…” He faltered, though no one had heard him. “Where are you taking him?” He asked. One of the doctors turned to him.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” His voice was stern. Dean ignored him and stepped towards his brother.

“Where are you taking him?” He asked, louder.

“We’ve got to take him up for emergency surgery. They’re going to do their best to save his leg.”

“Save his leg? You mean, it’s, not just broken?” Dean’s voice kept faltering, he was trying his best to stop it, but that wasn’t working out so well.

“Look, Mr. Smith,” The doctor started. “Your brother’s suffering from a serious crush injury to his lower leg. That’s not a good thing. When he was mostly conscious when he came in he was telling us that he couldn’t feel his toes. There’s very limited circulation to his foot at the moment which is why we’re taking him up there now. We’ve had him on calcium gluconate, sodium bicarbonate-”

“I, I don’t know all that is! Come on, just tell me what’s gonna happen to Sam.” He almost yelled.

“Mr. Smith, we’re going to take him up and see if we can repair the damage. If we can do that then it’ll be physiotherapy for about six months or so and he could be able to use it again. On the other hand…” the doctor paused, gauging Dean’s reaction so far. “On the other hand, if the surgeons are unable to get any circulation back into his lower leg or if there is a substantial build-up of toxins that we’re going to have to amputate his leg. That’ll be worst case scenario.”

“Toxins, like, he’s being poisoned by his own body?” Dean had heard of this before, people getting trapped in small places and then when they move and release the toxins, it’s killed them. “He’s not dying!” He told him.

“That’s why he needs to go to surgery right now.” The doctor warned him. He moved past Dean and went back to Sam who seemed to be semi-conscious at the moment.

“Sam?” Dean called, walking over to his bedside that had the least amount of people.

“De,” He replied, his voice hoarse and barely a whisper. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Eh, you’ve got to have some surgery, man.” Dean explained quietly. “You’re gonna be good though,” Dean forced a smile. “Right, doctor?” He looked to Doctor Thompson, who caught on to Dean’s positivity.

“Yes, Sam, we’re going to do our best to save your leg.” He patted him lightly on the shoulder and smiled at him. “He needs to go now,” The doctor had turned his attention to Dean. “There’s no saying how long this’ll take. I’d take a rough guess at about three hours, but it could change. I’ll ask one of the surgeons who’ll be assisting to come and give you updates. Okay?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Dean watched as the gurney Sam was lying on was wheeled backwards into the lift. “Good luck, Sam.” _No dying on me_ , he thought.

* * *

The ride in the lift seemed long, the pain in his leg hadn’t really gone away even with the abominable amount of pain medication he had pumping through his system. He didn’t know what had woken him, perhaps instinct, but he was glad he woke when he did. Now, he just wished he would fall back into unconsciousness. 

“So, what’re you gonna do to me?” He wondered, he hadn’t thought to ask Dean. Everything had been a bit of a whirlwind anyway.

“Sorry?” Clearly he hadn’t heard what Sam had said.

“What’s gonna happen, you said you were gonna save my leg.”

“Your leg was crushed under what fell on you. The nerves have clearly been damaged, that’s-” Sam cut him off.

“That’s why I can’t feel or move my toes. They were hurting before, I could feel them before.” He told him, hoping the fact he could feel them before was a good thing.

“Yes, we realise that, but you have to understand, Sam, that there are a lot of toxins trapped in your lower leg and unless we get rid of them, by giving you several types of drugs to counteract the effects, they’re going to poison your body and you’ll be worse off and your odds of survival are gonna be pretty low. However, if that is the case and we can’t stabilise the toxins, we’ll amputate your leg, just below the knee to stop the toxins from getting to the rest of your body. You have a tourniquet on at the moment. We’re taking you into surgery so that when we give you the remaining drugs we can act quickly if we need to.”

“Am I gonna be asleep for all this?” He wondered, heartbeat picking up a little at the notion of seeing his leg being taken off.

“Of course. The anaesthesiologist will give you an injection to make you feel sleepy and make your muscles relax and then he’ll give you a mask with the gas that’ll put you out. You shouldn’t feel or remember anything from the surgery once you’re under.” Sam tried his best to take it all in, but he felt he was fighting consciousness, maybe it was the drugs, or maybe he was just exhausted from the trauma.

“Yeah, I wanna keep my leg though.” He told him defiantly.

“We know, the last thing we want to do is amputate your leg, Sam.” He smiled and let him be wheeled off to the operating room.

The operating room was eerily quiet and clean. The bed was stopped next to another, shorter bed and four orderlies did their best to carefully manhandle Sam over onto the bed without causing too much pain. Sam kept his pain to himself, clenching his teeth and fists. The new bed was cold and Sam shivered once before settling. A nurse came up behind his head and pulled a hair net over his hair which was now getting longer. A light blue blanket was pulled up to his neck over the monitoring equipment. The warmth slowly spread through him before his arms were spread out to either side of him. An older nurse was readying a syringe full of a white liquid. Sam guessed this was what the doctor was talking about.

“Good evening, Sam.” The surgeon said, creeping into the room. It certainly wasn’t evening anymore. It was more very early morning.

“Um, hi.” He replied. “You’re gonna let me keep my leg right?” He asked, a spark of hope in his voice.

“We’ll do our best, young man.” He patted Sam’s leg. “Now, are you ready?”

Sam shook his head. “Not really. But there’s not much I can do about that, eh.”

“I’ll go scrub up then and I’ll let the anaesthesiologist do his magic.” He smiled and left the room.

Sam faced the middle-aged, scruffy bearded man above him who smiled gently, like most doctors do, and placed an oxygen mask over Sam’s mouth and nose. “In a second that nice doctor over there is gonna give you some of the good stuff, it’s going to make you very sleepy. Okay?” The anaesthesiologist held the mask firmly against his face, Sam’s breath fogging it up every time he breathed out. Sam looked over to his left arm which was spread out beside him, the doctor, who indeed did look very nice, was injecting a white liquid into his arm. Sam took several deep breaths before he began to feel tired. The oxygen mask was changed over for a different mask, this one had a funny taste when he breathed in. “Count back from one hundred for me, Sam.” He instructed.

“One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven, ni-” That was as far as Sam had got before he drifted off into his induced unconsciousness.

* * *

 

Outside, Dean paced. The young nurse who’d attended to his arm had found him again and strapped up his shoulder in a sling. She offered him a glass of water, which he unintentionally refused, and wandered off. Dean was thirsty, he didn’t know why he’d refused the water but he wished he hadn’t. Doctor Thompson soon came over to see him.

“Hello, Mr. Smith. Your brother is now under and they’ve just started. May I direct you to the waiting area?” Dean just nodded and the doctor led the way to two flights of stairs to the family waiting area. Thankfully, the room was empty save for himself. He sat himself down on the nearest semi-comfy chair and it suddenly felt like a whole world’s worth of exhaustion hit him. He wouldn’t sleep though. No, he had be to awake. Had to be awake for his brother.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed before Doctor Thompson came back to update him, it had been two hours. He didn’t have the cheeriest look on his face either, but it was half three in the morning, what was Dean expecting. “Mr. Smith?” Dean looked up from the magazine he wasn’t reading, it had been something to gaze at blindly that wasn’t the off white walls or counting the number of chairs in the room.

“Yeah, how’s Sam, is he alright?” Dean stood up, wobbly on his legs for a split second from sitting down for too long.

“Sam’s fine. Unfortunately, the build-up of toxins in his lower leg was extreme and they’ve decided amputation is their only option.”

“No…” Dean stumbled back. “You said…”

“Mr. Smith, I said we’d do our best. That has not been the outcome. They’re about to start phase two of the procedure now. Sam should be just fine. Medicine has come a long way. We’ll be able to control any infection. It should heal up nicely.”

“But… he, our job…” Dean was unable to form a complete sentence in his mind, let alone have a sentence leave his mouth.

“I’m aware that your job most likely requires all limbs, but he doesn’t have a choice. He will be able to get a prosthetic leg, I mean, they’re pricey but if he was able to do his job with that then it could be an option for you.” Doctor Thompson was trying his best to inform Dean about everything. Dean plunged back down into the chair, head in his hands, fatigue causing his emotions to run amuck. He dragged a hand heavily down his face and took a deep breath before looking back up at the doctor.

“Okay,” He wasn’t replying to anything in particular, but it seemed the right thing to say.

“I would seriously suggest sleep, Mr. Smith.”

“Winchester, name’s Winchester, not Smith.” He told him before he left the room, there was no use lying now, and despite Dean’s anxiety about his brother in surgery, Dean did what the doctor ordered. He lay down across three and a half chairs and slept.

Dean woke when he heard the door to the family waiting room open, though when he looked bleary-eyed at the door it wasn’t the doctor but a couple, Dean assumed they were a couple by the way they were clinging to each other. Dean felt rude, suddenly, taking up the three and a half chairs even if there were fourteen chairs in the room, he would know, he counted them several times. He smiled at the couple who’d entered before picking up the magazine from earlier and began reading it again, words jumbled because his brain hadn’t recovered from sleep.

Thirty minutes later, Doctor Thompson returned. The couple had been chatting quietly to each other which hadn’t bother Dean, he’d found it marginally comforting to have someone else in the room. “Mr. Winchester?” He called quietly. “Your brother is out of surgery.” Before the doctor had even finished his sentence Dean was up, mind clear of the leftover fogginess from sleep.

“He’s okay?” He spoke quickly.

“Yeah, he’s still sleeping off the anaesthetic, but I can take you to him if you want.”

“I, uh, do you reckon he’ll be alright if I see him, you know…” Dean glanced at the floor. The doctor seemed to understand though. That was his job though, to understand people.

“Of course. I think it’ll be better for him if he wakes up and you’re there, you two seem very close. I don’t think letting him waking up and letting him discover his amputation on his own would be a very good idea to be honest. Come on, he’s just down the hall.” Doctor Thompson motioned for him to follow him.

Dean followed the tall doctor into a new ward, a sliding door guarded the entrance and everything inside seemed spotlessly clean. He could see his brother, about halfway down the ward and made his way towards him.

Sam was propped up on a couple of pillows, and the bed was slightly elevated. An oxygen mask was still covering his nose and mouth – just a precaution, the doctor had said – monitors still monitoring his vital signs. He seemed peaceful, Dean doubted that would be the case when he woke. He hadn’t looked yet, kept his focus on Sam, on the machines around him, watching him fog up the oxygen mask.

“It’s going to be all right, Mr. Winchester.” He said encouragingly. Dean began to turn his head, to look to Sam’s legs. It looked odd. Almost surreal. One of his long legs reached close to the end of the bed and the other, the other just seemed to stop half way down. Dean swallowed hard, surely this wasn’t real.

Muffled grunts came from beside him. Sam was waking up. “Sam?” Dean said gently, tapping his brother on the arm gently.

“De’?” His face screwed up suddenly.

“Hey, Doctor Thompson, is, is he in any pain?” Dean asked him.

“Possibly, I’ll go and grab something for him.” Doctor Thompson left the boys to themselves.

“It’s alright, Sam, the doc’s just gone to get you some pain meds. Alright?” Sam nodded. Dean wondered if Sam had noticed that half his leg had been amputated. Should he tell him? Should he let him find out by himself?

“Am I okay?” Sam wondered. Telling him it was then.

“You’re still here aren’t you?” Dean didn’t know why he was trying to lighten the mood, it wasn’t working. “Look, Sam…” His tone darkened slightly.

“No, they didn’t…” Sam sat himself up more. “No…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of the before part... next we go to about a year or so later :)


	3. After: Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so so so so sorry that this has taken so long :/ I kept writing a bit and then not having much motivation with some writer's block on the side for so long. However, my good friend from across the pond managed to get me into gear and here we are! Also, she was amazing and beta'd again for this chapter - I'm talking about the lovely Aecoris(AO3)/hugitoutwinchesters(Tumblr) who you should most definitely check out! 
> 
> So much love and thanks to her for kicking my butt and getting me to actually finish this aha :D ♥

Dean had left the small motel in the Impala two hours ago. He’d checked in with his brother once to say that he was still good. Sam had made sure Dean would check in every so often now that Sam wasn’t exactly in peak condition for hunting. Making his way across the room from his bed to the small table by the window, Sam opened up his laptop and switched it on before placing his crutches on the floor beside him.

They’d found a case involving some CEO’s son who’d been kidnapped by something. What that something was Sam and Dean didn’t know. Though what they’d found so far seemed to be linked to a vengeful sprit. They weren’t ones for kidnapping though, which threw them off for a while. Dean decided to check it out anyway.

Sam opened a map of the area to where the boy had been kidnapped, his father had said he’d been camping with some friends at Two Lakes Campground in Wisconsin. Sam tapped at the keyboard as he delved deeper into police reports in the area, as well as history pertaining to the lake itself and also the grounds that the campsite was on. It pulled up some interesting information so Sam grabbed his phone and dialled Dean’s number.

“Shoot Sam,” Dean said as he picked up. Sam could hear the rumbling of the Impala in the background.

"Okay, so I'm definitely seeing the vengeful spirit working to be what this is all about."

"Alright, where do I find them?"

"So, the spirit of the guy you're looking for is named Gerald O'Connor. It says in this news report that he was killed in a boating accident in 1981, three others died and just the one guy survived who is still alive and owns the Two Lakes Campground. His name is Kevin Davy, he lives in the main cabin in the campground."

"Alright, then, simple enough," Dean said.

"I hope so,” Sam said, slowly, the last time they’d thought something was simple, Sam had lost his leg. “The kid's name is Daniel, the one who's gone missing. The police have said he's not dead, they've not found a body anyway."

"Yeah, yeah. Speak to Kevin Davy, find the kid, salt and burn O'Connor – done and dusted."

"Something like that. Dean..." Sam trailed off.

"Yeah...," Dean encouraged.

"Just stay safe alright?"

"Yeah, I know that, you can't exactly come running around after me," Dean told him. A sharp twinge went through Sam, he hated when Dean told him what he couldn't do, now that he only had one leg.

"Jerk," he told him, lightening the mood.

"Bitch." Came the reply at the other end and the phone call was ended.

\--

Dean straightened his tie and suit jacket as he stepped out of the Impala. He double checked he pockets for his fake FBI ID and went to the main office where he hoped to find Kevin Davy.

When he stepped inside the cabin, it was fairly dim with only the light from a single light bulb lighting the place up.

"Can I help?" A gruff voice came.

"Uh, yeah, Agent Jackson, FBI." Dean flipped his badge to the guy behind the counter.

"What're the FBI doing around here?"

"Missing kid, from your campsite. You haven't heard?" Dean asked.

"Well yeah, the police sorted it."

"Sorted it? The kid's still missing."

"Kid's probably dead if you've not heard from him by now. Dangerous waters, thick woods, anything can happen."

Dean just glared at the man. "Watch what you say, or you'll be arrested for intention," he warned him.

Dean asked the guy about his connection to Gerald O’Connor to which he explained that the guy had been an ass, even though they’d been best friends. This raised suspicions with Dean and he made a note to tell Sam about it later.

Once Dean had finished speaking with Kevin he returned to the impala, pulling out his phone to call Sam. Sometimes Dean really missed not having Sam in the passenger seat, by his side talking to people when they needed to and his back up, but a one-legged FBI field agent didn’t exactly come across as convincing. Dean just huffed and called Sam.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah,”

“I’ve got a gut feeling about this Kevin guy. It ain’t good. He didn’t even care about the missing kid; he said that Gerald was an ass. Gotta feeling he knows more than he’s letting on.”

“Alright, I’ll dig deeper into Kevin then. Have you spoken to the police yet about where they’ve looked for Daniel?”

“No, off now to do that.”

\--

Dean spoke to the police who'd not been much help and were dubious about his credibility. They pretty much left him in the dark despite Dean trying to reason with them about how important this case was and that there was a boy missing. Dean took a local map and began marking points where the boy could've been taken to before returning to the motel where Sam was.

"Sam?" Dean called when he opened the door to the ground floor room. He didn't seem to be in the main living space and the bathroom door was open still. "Sam?" He called again. There was still no answer so Dean took a proper look around, finding no one.

Dean pulled out his phone, speed dialling Sam, heartbeat rising in panic. Just as Dean was about to put the phone to his ear there was a rattling at the front door. Dean stepped behind the partition and took out his gun, cocked it and remained silent and ready. The fumbling at the door sounded like someone picking the lock and then the door burst open.

He stepped out, gun drawn at shoulder height.

Right in Sam’s face.

“Dean!” Sam shouted in shock. “Dude! Put it away!” Dean was quick to shuffle the gun back into the back of his trousers.

“Sorry…,” Dean said dejectedly. “I thought someone was picking the lock and you weren’t here. Thought someone had got to ya.”

“I just went to the convenience store two streets down. I was trying to juggle the bag, the key and one leg.” Sam huffed a laugh at Dean’s horrified face. “Shut your trap, Dean, you’ll be catching flies otherwise.”

“Don’t mock me.” Dean scowled.

“Whatever,” Sam said, making his way over to the kitchenette and placing the stock up of groceries in the fridge and the cupboard under the sink. He sat down in front of his laptop which was whirring away. “Did you find anything?”

“No, I marked on a map some possible locations, you could look into those and I’ll go out tomorrow to search the places.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sam said and began tapping at his keyboard as Dean handed him the marked up map.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! There are more chapters coming, the wait shouldn't be as long next time!


End file.
